


The Little Things

by jm_serendipitous



Category: Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Alternate Canon, M/M, POV Second Person, People Watching, Romantic Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-02
Updated: 2012-10-02
Packaged: 2017-11-15 12:23:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/527275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jm_serendipitous/pseuds/jm_serendipitous
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's going to time take for you to trust Tyler, time to be assured that he won't turn on Jeremy or hurt him anymore, but you think it's a trust that can be developed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Little Things

They’re fascinating to watch. The economics textbook under your hand forgotten, the concept of demand and supply and the curve of elasticity evanescent with the previously insistent drive to study (heaven forbid you actually attempt something _normal_ like studying), you steal peaks at the pair in the next room, glancing up through your eyelashes in a futile try at inconspicuousness.

They have their backs to you, lounging artlessly on the couch with game controllers in their hands, fingers moving skillfully as they fight one another in a cartoonish dungeon, the firecrackers of neon lights and grunts of each attack move braying in the otherwise quiet house. From your imperceptible observations it seems Jeremy is winning, albeit just barely. Sighing, you look down at your book and skim the same paragraph you’ve read but not absorbed more than three times now. Canting your head slightly, you notice the words sound familiar although you don’t remember them precisely; recognizable but foreign.

Suddenly there’s a thunderous crash from the living room and you shoot up, ramrod, instinctively on alert, prepared for whatever intruder has burst into your home. The tension in your shoulders deflates, however, when you see that the boys’ game has merely ended, the sentiment blinking vividly on the screen. Tyler is playfully pummeling Jeremy’s arm, the younger boy grinning smugly through victorious laughs, shoving back against Tyler in retaliation.

“Weird, huh?” a voice says over your left shoulder.

You don’t mean to startle, but there’s nothing to do be done by the way you flinch at Aunt Jenna’s unanticipated presence. Having migrated downstairs with an empty mug in her hands, she eases down in the chair beside you, her eyes remaining on her nephew and his new friend as they joust on the couch. Jeremy has turned sideways, leveraging against the armrest to press his black-socked feet roughly into Tyler’s side, and they two are cackling boisterously, their enjoyment in this seemingly human moment palpable.

It’s the little things, you deduce as you and Aunt Jenna proceed to be spectators to this new Jeremy, the one that has concealed his scars and trudged out of the hurt locker. Invariably hindered by something or another, Jeremy’s been through a battlefield so seeing this, seeing him playful and full of life after so much destruction of it, after the complete annihilation of what they used to have, whatever suspicions you have about Tyler and his involvement with your brother is mollified, even just for the time being.

Your brother is smiling again; you count it as a small miracle.

“So what do you think it’s about?” Aunt Jenna questions, voice low and hushed behind her bent head.

You narrow your eyes at her, amused, a snort erupting from your throat. “I don’t know,” you whisper back.

“You know we can hear you,” Jeremy bellows. You both peak from the corners of your eyes to assess what position the two have quieted in. Jeremy is still settled sideways on the couch, leaning back on the armrest, cushioned by two pillows, but his feet have disappeared from view; Tyler’s arm is draped casually over Jeremy’s shins. ‘Game Over’ still blinks on the television screen.

Jenna scoffs, tossing her hair down her back. “We weren’t talking about you!”

Tyler lulls his head around, visibly raising an eyebrow in Jeremy’s direction. Jeremy snorts, calling back, “You two aren’t exactly the most secretive co-conspirators. We know you’re talking about us.”

“We aren’t talking about you, Jeremy,” you counter, earning a nudge from Aunt Jenna.

“Then who _are_ you talking about?” Tyler pipes in.

Aunt Jenna directs panicked eyes at you, wide and deer in the headlights. “Uh,” you stutter lamely, “Mr. Saltzman—Alaric, I mean. He hasn’t been, you know, around here recently and Aunt Jenna was just asking for my advice. On whether she should call him and invite him to dinner and stuff.” Aunt Jenna beams; you roll your eyes.

“Right,” Jeremy and Tyler drawl in unison.

“Oh, go back to your Dungeons & Dragons, or whatever,” Aunt Jenna orders, standing and weaving around the island to the sink, twisting on the faucet.

You shake your head, obscuring a smile behind your drapery of hair, and return, once again, to your textbook with faltering enthusiasm for the subject. You hear the boys converse softly, nothing distinguishable, and peer up just in time to catch Tyler handing one of the controllers to Jeremy as the younger of the two resituates himself beside him. They start up another game just as Aunt Jenna shuts off the tap and closes the dishwasher.

“You ready for your test on Thursday?” she asks, pausing as she breezes by.

You sigh and drop your pen so it rolls into the dip of the book’s spine, closing it with finality and moving it aside. “No, but I’ll study later. I won’t be able to concentrate with them down here.”

“Go upstairs,” Aunt Jenna suggests.

Shaking your head, you push the chair back and stand, reiterating, “I’ll study later,” as you round the table and migrate into the living room.

Collapsing onto the other couch, you smile briefly at Jeremy when he catches your eye, only for a short second as Tyler’s soldier takes the momentary distraction to get a kick in. You prop your bare feet up on the coffee table, toes grazing Jeremy’s coke can, and your fingers habitually move to the large rip on the right knee of your faded jeans. You lasso a string between your middle and index fingers, creating a loop in the air and toying with it, your other fingers digging under the frayed seams.

You watch the screen for several minutes, but inevitably give up as you can’t keep track of who is who and what exactly the main objective is, what level they’re trying to reach or how many fights have to be won before promoting to the next stage. It’s all very confusing and you’ve never been much of a video game girl. You instead steal your attention back towards Tyler and your brother, noting curiously how close they’re now sitting, even with copious amounts of room on either side of them. Their knees knock together frequently and their arms are never apart; both appear to be completely comfortable, unbothered with the close proximity.

Whatever vitriolic emotions the two held before has been buried. It’s going to take time for you to trust Tyler, time to be assured that he won’t turn on Jeremy or hurt him anymore, but you think it’s a trust that can be developed. You have a feeling he’s not going anywhere anytime soon. 


End file.
